


A Bandage And a Half

by miraimisu



Series: Through the Time [Lonashipping Week | July 2019] [1]
Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Sun & Moon | Pokemon Sun & Moon Versions, Pocket Monsters: Ultra Sun & Ultra Moon | Pokemon Ultra Sun & Ultra Moon Versions
Genre: F/M, Gladion is softer than he admits, Hurt, Tending Wounds, UB Mission, Where the author closes a Pokémon Center because potato and somehow gets away with it, fluff-ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2020-07-10 17:46:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19909708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miraimisu/pseuds/miraimisu
Summary: DAY 1 | INJUREDGranted, Moon might not be the most careful of trainers and Gladion for sure is not the most gentle of friends, but he would never turn her down when she is this hurt and he can do something about it.





	A Bandage And a Half

**Author's Note:**

> GOOD MORNING EPIC READERS Lonashipping week is beginning and I have had these stored for likeeeee weeks so here they are! I'm very excited about these because 1) they are a bit different from my usual writing and are more similar to what I used to write like so I'm excited! and 2) I loved the prompts and I also really like how they turned out /tap dances
> 
> Hope you like them and if you don't I will give you my legal info to sue me but you cannot chase a penguin with ultra speed lemme remind you

"I still don't know why you thought coming here in the dead of the night was a good idea, Moon."

The girl puffs her cheeks at that statement and extends her arm for him to apply the sanitizer. Moon hisses and squirms in her seat at the feeling, her face shrinking in discomfort. "Well, I didn't have that many options! It's not my fault Seafolk's Pokémon Center is closed tonight."

Gladion's expression remains neutral as he tends to her wounds. The softness in his touch does not pair up with the lack of emotion in his eyes, but she appreciates the gentle touch all the same.

This is not an often occasion, him looking after her in the dead of the night- or, at least, it _wasn't_ usual. Moon had been assigned with several field missions all around Alola in search of the fearsome Ultra Beasts that had once brought terror upon the region, and she had been successful in keeping her mouth shut until a few weeks ago.

When Gladion found her almost bleeding to death in the Desert of Haina, where he was carrying out a field investigation with his team. Her side had been bleeding badly, so much so that it almost didn't look like _her_ , the ever so stoic Champion that everyone thought to be invincible.

It became clear that day that she is far from invincible. She's just another human, like any of the workers of Aether or any of the children at the Trainer School of Melemele. And as he took her to the hospital in an anxious and hyperventilating heap - either because of the amount of blood or because of _something else_ , he's not quite sure - he thought she wouldn't make it.

But Moon had made it. And he had taken the opportunity to sit patiently and make her talk about her mission because there was no way he would let anyone be in such danger again.

(Yes, he used _anyone_ because admitting she was anything beyond that would have sounded ridiculous in his head right then. But not now that she is in his house, 1 o'clock at night and an arm cut all over.)

Moon had explained the situation relatively calmly. Apparently the creature she had been chasing after had been shielded by a group of vicious Sandile and Krokrok that went straight for her. Her Pokémon had been weakened after fighting the Ultra Beast, so she had been basically defenseless in the raging storm of Haina.

He shouldn't have felt happy when she said she hadn't wanted to bring Silvally with her, but he did. Seeing the state of her night after night, though, brought remorse to such selfish thought.

So Moon has been crashing at his place after each mission. Or, at least, after each life-threatening mission she comes from. Sometimes it's a broken ankle, others it's a gushing wound down her leg.

Once she came with a big cut on her forehead and Gladion almost had a heart attack.

"Still," Gladion clears his throat as he grabs some bandages. "I told you several times to bring bandages with you. You just never listen."

He turns from her after saying that. His back is to her, yet Moon can distinguish some sort of tension on his body, so she guesses he must be tired. Reading Gladion's body language is like second nature for her, and there's no night she doesn't feel guilty for making him patch her up, but he never pushes her away or tells her to go to a hospital. Instead, he takes her in with the most subtle of resignation and warmth he can muster.

Moon is happy with that, even if he grunts that she's being a child and she says she's just doing her best. He never responds to that, either, maybe because he agrees.

"I actually forgot about that bandages today, but I didn't the other day. I can patch myself up perfectly fine, you know it." Pursing her lips, she touches around his handiwork to make sure it's sturdy enough to last the ride back home. He's done an excellent job, as always. "I might even do it better than you."

Surprisingly, Gladion doesn't give her an answer to this. His back is still facing her as he rummages through his first-aid kit. His body heaves forward and is contorted unnaturally, probably due to the way he sits on his office chair. She keeps on telling him to bring a pillow or something to correct his posture, and he always says that she is nobody to talk. Gladion is still a know-it-all and she hates it.

Not _him_ , though. Moon can't hate somebody who stays after hours just to take care of her wounds when she's too tired to do so herself, or too dizzy, bruised and sleepy to do it.

Moon pulls herself up after a moment of further contempt. She watches as he doesn't move away from his stool, whereas she is very much stretching her body after the awkward posture on that plastic seat of his kitchen. Gladion had had the decency to let her sit on the most comfortable of seats, so she can thank him for that.

"Thank you for letting me… you know, drop by," she says, feeling the same heat of embarrassment creeping up her neck in shame. "I don't really like contributing to your awful sleeping habits by making you stay up for longer. I'll look after myself a bit better."

They don't usually part ways with grand gestures of farewell or fondness, because that's not how they work. Whenever Hau, Lillie and them two meet up, they spend the day exchanging softened blows back and forth like Magnemites pushing against each other, but they know that animosity is but a façade.

Now, when they are on their own, everything is much milder. Slower. More intimate. But never further than the delicate line they have traced in the sand to remain civil enough to be considered friends, but impersonal enough with the other so he doesn't feel self-conscious about it. She knows he prefers to work his way into personal relationships on his own, and she knows better than to push him by being melodramatic when saying goodbye.

But when he looks so tired and… so caring, at times, she really wants to be a bit sweeter. To test the waters and see what's going on in that silent brain of his.

Gladion has, in fact, paused his rummaging and is staring aimlessly at the wall. She hears him waiting for her to leave in that prolonged silence, so she proceeds to make her way out and let him sleep at once. She won't accomplish much making him lose time.

"Anyway, I'll see you around. I'll invite you to a Malasada next time we meet up," she says hurriedly, taking big strides towards the big door of his house, knowing that saying any more would make it even more awkward. "Go to sleep soon, okay?"

In the darkness, she can only discern a quiet nod from him, a promise to comply to her sound advice, so she nods back and is about to touch the doorknob when she hears him clear his throat again from behind.

Moon stays facing the door as timid steps walk slowly out of the area they previously were in, but when she bravely turns around in askance, he still refuses to look at her, packing his things in a bag. Presumably, he is going to leave all of it in the bathroom when she leaves.

The silence is replaced with a quiet, careful voice. "I don't really mind you coming by," he says, zipping the bag close and looking at it as he finds the right words to say. "I… I don't like you getting hurt because you are being forgetful. It makes me a bit angry."

A thin invisible layer under his voice makes it sound thicker, and it fills the ample space in its quietness. There is a hoarse, strained element to it she can't quite pinpoint, so she resorts to thinking he is beyond exhausted. Because there can't be much more beyond that voice, right?

Moon backs herself against his front door, as if his voice is cornering her against the wooden surface. Her hand fumbles with the golden knob absent-mindedly. "I know. I'm just a bit in a rush to finish all of this. I don't like getting cut all over like this either, you know."

The other nods with a distinct hum. Not of approval, but not of disapproval either. He just seems content. Satisfied with her answer. As if he didn't care in the slightest about this situation, which would be the logical answer considering how this night has gone so far.

Him not caring makes sense. But it makes her heart churn uncomfortably in her chest, as if the thought was utterly wrong and unfair. Which it isn't. Because these happenings are merely of selfish need for medical attention.

"Just…" The word dissolves into a sigh. "Please, don't get hurt like that again. I do not mind you coming here to get those checked. It just makes sleeping a bit harder and it doesn't seem like you are aware of that, Moon."

Silence. In the slow time that flows between them, she fails to register it at the necessary speed, because it takes her three seconds to notice the dent in his words, the fragility he says her name with. The indignant but solemn tilt of his plea. As if there actually is something else she can't name but he is spelling out so clearly for her.

And when she notices it's as if he has just realized it too, for dark crimson is all she sees in his ears in the pale, dim moonlight that lights up the dark room. Everything is too quiet, meaning and notion dawning on her and making her stomach fall like an anvil in the sea.

"I…" Moon gulps, her voice coming out dry as she processes his words. "I will try to be more careful then. I didn't mean to… to worry anyone."

The word _anyone_ is said to try and make things impersonal again but she fails miserably. Because it's them in the room now, alone, and only him and her know of her current mission. A mission that is thawing at his patience, it looks like.

His following nod is more succinct and outspoken than whatever words could have conveyed, so she whispers something under her breath, akin to 'I'm sorry' and 'Don't worry' before the knob clicks under her palm and she is taking to the night again, leaning against the door as warmth and a tingling sting takes over her cheeks.

Numb as she feels after a day of battling, a small smile makes it into her features.

Maybe tonight hadn't been so bad after all.


End file.
